


loved to the point of invention

by BookFangirlMaryJane



Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Jack Harkness gets to punch someone in the face, Kissing, Off-screen smut, Secret Relationship, TARDIS Advent Calendar, Thoschei, Ugly Sweaters, doesn't mean it's ugly, it was long overdue, well she knitted a sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28260414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookFangirlMaryJane/pseuds/BookFangirlMaryJane
Summary: “I’m not wearing this.”The Doctor frowns up at the Master, eyes flickering from him to the sweater in his hands. He holds it like it’s contagious.“But…”He snorts and drops the sweater into her lap. “Not wearing it.”--o--TARDIS Advent Calendar (by Valc0), today's prompt is 'Ugly Christmas sweaters but in the wrong time period.'Warnings: post-series 12, slight spoilers, angst. Very angsty, actually.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041429
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	loved to the point of invention

**Author's Note:**

> Me, yesterday: I have one sentence. I'm not writing for this prompt.  
> Also me, yesterday: Oh, would you look at that? Angsty angst with a side of angst. Yes, alright, you've convinced me. I'm writing this.
> 
> This is... not really in the wrong time period. More an excuse for me to have them wear fluffy sweaters and be angsty.

“I’m not wearing this.”

The Doctor frowns up at the Master, eyes flickering from him to the sweater in his hands. He holds it like it’s contagious.

“But…”

He snorts and drops the sweater into her lap. “Not wearing it. It looks stupid. Those trees clash with every single one of my outfits. Just return it, will you?”

By the time the Doctor finds her voice, he’s already out the door.

“But I **made** this for you…” she tells an empty room, fingers slowly curling around the fabric in her lap. She learned how to knit just to make him a sweater. Purple, with little Christmas trees on the front and on the back she stitched his name. He didn’t even notice it before refusing something that she worked on for months.

He didn’t know. He didn’t mean to…

The Doctor sighs.

Well. It had been a stupid idea, anyway. But she got the hint. No presents for him.

**—o—**

Her fam doesn’t pick up on her mood when they’re taking a trip to a shopping planet, last-minute present shopping, but Jack comes up to her afterwards and waits until she looks up at him to ask: “So, what’s wrong?”

The Doctor frowns at him. “Hm? Nothing. Why?”

He gives her a look. “I know you, Doctor. Something’s wrong. You didn’t even smile when I showed you those Bambi figures and said ‘Is this you?’ I don’t even think you heard me.” Oh. She didn’t. She doesn’t remember that happening.

“Sorry, I was… distracted,” she says, and Jack raises a brow. “Yes. That’s why I’m asking what’s wrong. You’re not usually distracted like that. So, something must have happened. Tell me, maybe I can help.”

A few more seconds, the Doctor tries to keep it in. Then her shoulders drop and she heavily leans against the console.

“I… had a fight. With… someone very important to me.” She glances at Jack. He doesn’t know the Master is still alive. None of them does. “I made him a sweater. Christmas sweater, with trees on the front and his name on the back. Learned how to knit, just so I could…”

She wets her lips. Her throat is dry.

“He took one look at it and gave it back. Said it’s clashing with his outfits and that I should just return it. Don’t think he realized I made it myself… He left before I could tell him.” There are tears brimming in her eyes. Quickly, she wipes them off with her coat sleeve and looks back at her friend.

Jack is frowning. “Well, this person sounds like a dick.”

The blunt crudeness startles a choked laugh out of the Doctor. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

“You made him a sweater and he threw it right back in your face? Screw him and get a new important person.”

A weak smile flits over her lips. “’S not like I can just stop lo- liking him.”

With a sigh, Jack gets up and pats her shoulder. “Do you want me to go and yell at this person? I don’t know who it is but it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

She sniffs. “No, it’s alright. He… does things like that. Not exactly good with presents. Or gratitude.” Or emotions, or talking about these things.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m ready to kick his ass,” Jack promises and the Doctor laughs. “I know. Thank you. But I’ll manage on my own.”

She watches as he leaves and then rests her chin on top of her folded arms on the console. The Master hasn’t been by since the sweater incident. She told him she’d be busy with her fam. Of course, she lied. They’re home now, and she’s not expected to pick them up until next weekend. But she needs a moment to herself. A moment without him.

Needs a moment to accept that he’s still fundamentally the Master, not that little boy that kissed her beneath the stars. He’s her best enemy, not her oldest friend in the universe. Not anymore. No matter how hard she tries to believe it.

**—o—**

He’s doing something stupid.

Of course, for Captain Jack Harkness, that’s not unexpected. It’s very much the norm, actually. But this might be one of the stupidest things he’s ever done.

The Doctor said she’d handle it.

So why is he here, waiting for the **Master** to arrive, a man he thought to be dead until he stole the Doctor’s phone to go through her last texts and found one that implied she was **seeing** the bastard, so he can yell at the idiotic megalomaniac and literal murderer for not accepting a **Christmas sweater**.

How is this his life?

“Harkness,” a voice calls from behind and Jack turns around. His eyebrows rise in surprise. He knew the Master regenerated, but… Well. He certainly can see the appeal. Very pretty face.

“Bastard,” he retorts with a sarcastic grin.

The Master raises a brow. “Is there a reason you asked me to come here? From the Doctor’s phone, no less. Especially since **she’s** not here, having an emergency.”

“Well, I figured it was the best way to get your attention,” Jack says with a shrug. “She doesn’t know I took her phone. Doesn’t know I know you’re not dead, and that you two are **dating** , or _something_ , either.” He really doesn’t want to know any details.

“Then what is this? Are you here to tell me that you’ll shoot me if I hurt her?” The Master looks bored, annoyed, really.

Jack narrows his eyes. “No, I’m here to punch you in the face for **already** having hurt her.”

Confusion overtakes the Master’s face and Jack moves. His fist connects with a loud crunch and the bastard’s pretty face gets knocked to the side. While Jack curses and cradles his knuckles, the Master stumbles back, holding a hand to his jaw.

“ **Fuck**!” he spits, grimacing and glaring at Jack. “What was **that** for?!”

Jack rolls his eyes. “You know, the two of you are idiots on a normal day but you’re usually the same kind of stupid.”

“Death threats, physical violence **and** insults. What’s next? Actually killing me?”

“She made you a Christmas sweater.”

That stops the Master dead in his tracks. “What?”

Jack snorts. “Finally listening, are you?” He shakes his fist a few times and then sighs. “She was distracted on our last adventure. I’ve known the Doctor long enough to recognize the fake smiles, you know? So I asked. Obviously, she didn’t use your name, but like I said, I took her phone and found your conversations. She was pretty upset because, apparently, she learned how to knit to make **someone** a sweater.”

The Master’s expression slips for just a second. Jack swears he can pinpoint shock, disbelief and regret before the blank mask of boredom comes up again. But it’s cracked now, just a little.

“She learned how to knit?” he forces out, sounding like he tried for nonchalance but missed it by a whole galaxy. It’s just too choked up for that.

“Yes. Knit a sweater. For you. The Doctor said you didn’t even look at it before telling her to return it. She tried very hard not to seem affected but she was crying.”

That seems to shatter the Master’s mask completely. He looks incredibly distraught. Jack never thought someone like the Master would have those kinds of emotions. “Crying?”

Jack gives him a stern glare. “Yes. I suggest you go and do everything to make it up to her. Rare flowers, custard cream and chocolate until she’s sick of it, whatever else she wants. Make her happy again. If you don’t, I really **will** shoot you in the face.”

“You’re not… opposed?” It’s fascinating, how surprised the Master sounds.

“I’m not. I suspected that the two of you had a **thing** , especially when you tragically died in the Doctor’s arms, who then spent hours sobbing over your dead body.” He chuckles. “And I already knew she was seeing someone, just not who. The Doctor is happier than I’ve ever seen her. Might be because of us, her fam and me, but I’m not going to deny that you play a part in it.”

With a slight pause, Jack considers the Time Lord gaping at him.

“She described you as someone very important to her, you know? Those words exactly. I told her to leave the asshole that treats her like that and she said she can’t just stop **liking** you, except she definitely meant to say something entirely different there. So no, I’m not going to tell you to break up or whatever you want to call it.”

Jack steps up to the shell-shocked Master and claps his shoulder. “Go and apologize, bastard. But don’t tell the Doctor I told you this. She explicitly told me not to get involved.”

A little chuckle escapes the Master’s lips. “Of course she did. In any case, I… appreciate that you came to me, Harkness.” He runs a hand through his hair and turns away, shoulders tense. “Thank you, for telling me,” he says, not looking at Jack. “And I suppose… I suppose I owe **you** an apology, too. For that year on the Valiant. I am… not yet regretting my actions but I am not looking back on them with much fondness. That face of mine was a whiny little jerk.”

Jack’s jaw drops.

By the time he manages to process the **Master** , **apologizing** , said Time Lord is already strolling off into the darkness, leaving Jack standing there in utter shock. Wow. Maybe the bastard will actually apologize to the Doctor for being a dick! He didn’t quite expect it, to be honest.

Well. He’ll just have to wait and see.

**—o—**

The Doctor is curled up on her bed, the sweater she knitted bundled up in her arms. She’s pretending it smells like him, pretending he let her borrow it, pretending he never threw it back into her lap in the first place.

It’s not quite working.

With a quiet squeaking, the door opens and then there’s his voice.

“Doctor?”

He sounds nervous, hesitant. Weird. The Doctor doesn’t turn. She really doesn’t want to see him right now!

“Go away,” she mumbles into her pillow.

A sigh comes from the door.

“I’m here to apologize.” That’s new. “I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have rejected your present. You… you went through all that trouble and I just threw it right back in your face. That was stupid of me.”

Yes, it bloody was! She sniffs.

“’S that all? Because if it is, you can leave again.” The Doctor is aware she sounds like a petulant child but honestly, she doesn’t care one bit.

“Doctor, I…” His footsteps come closer and she curls up further, refusing to turn.

“Can you please look at me? I’m trying here, luv, but it would be easier if you could look at me.” The bed next to her dips and now the Doctor really can’t avoid looking up at him. Immediately, her eyes widen and she scrambles up, reaching for the Master’s face.

“What happened to your face?!”

There is a giant bruise on his jaw, deep purple, and when she graces over it with her fingertips, the Master hisses. She jerks back.

“Sorry. But… what happened?”

He grimaces. “Doesn’t matter right now. I’m apologizing, because I was an idiot. And I really would love to wear that sweater, if you’re still… I mean, you learned how to knit just for me! That’s…”

“Hang on,” the Doctor stops him. “How do you know that?”

The Master freezes, looking like a deer in the headlights of a Cybership. Then he rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Well, apparently you’re not sneaky and your phone is easily stolen.” When she blinks, he elaborates: “Harkness contacted me.”

“Seriously?” She can’t believe Jack!

“Yes. He sent me a message, punched me in the face and told me you were pretty upset by what I did.” His eyes implore her to understand. “I didn’t know you’d… I’m sorry. I’ll wear it every single day from now on, okay?”

The Doctor opens and closes her mouth several times. Then she wordlessly shoves the sweater from her lap towards him. The Master accepts it and spreads it out to look at the Christmas trees. His fingers trace the fabric.

“You really made this for me…” he mutters, glancing up at her. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot, Doctor. It’s really impressive handiwork, luv.”

He turns it over and sucks in a breath.

The Doctor looks down and tugs on her sleeves. Maybe she shouldn’t have put his name on the sweater, that was a stupid idea, wasn't it? She shouldn't have...

His hand covers hers and stops the fidgeting. “Doctor, look at me, please?” She glances up. He… doesn’t look mad.

“Come here.” He opens his arms and she scoots over into his embrace. It’s as much an apology as his words earlier.

“I love the sweater,” he whispers into her ear. “And I’ll keep it forever and wear it all the time.” She sniffles. “Okay.”

“And I’ve got a sweater for you, too. It’s not as pretty as yours but it’s very nice and very soft and has rainbows all over it. The kind of ugly color-clash you love but that makes everyone else’s eyes hurt. Figured you’d like that.”

She smiles against his neck. “You didn’t have to.”

He sighs. “Oh, I really did. I made you **cry** , according to Harkness. I got you the rainbow sweater, matching rainbow gloves, a whole box of custard creams, another box with chocolates and I’m working on a thing at the moment. Because I was an inconsiderate idiot.”

The Doctor leans up and presses her lips to the Master’s in a gentle kiss. His hands come up to cradle her face as he presses closer. She lets her own hands stray, one tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other curls around his arm. A shiver races down her spine when he does _something_ and suddenly she’s on her back on the bed, his body covering hers perfectly, his mouth still on hers, his hands still curled in her hair.

She feels him all around her. It's the best feeling in the world.

**—o—**

Later, when the Master has left her to it and she’s on another adventure with her fam, Jack gives her fluffy rainbow sweater a raised brow. She rolls her eyes and steps up to him. Without looking at him she says: “Thank you, Jack. For not listening to me. But if you do that again, I’m gonna hit you.”

He just chuckles. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? That’s a pretty nice sweater, Doctor.” Then he glances at it. “Though, no offense, but it’s ugly as fuck.”

The Doctor frowns and looks at it. “No, it’s not. It’s rainbows! And pretty colors! I love it.”

“Of course you do,” Jack mutters. “Well. Someone has to, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor confirms. “Someone has to love this sweater. And really, I’ve always loved this sweater. From the first moment I saw it. ‘S mine. And I’m not gonna stop loving it because other people don’t like it.”

Jack gives her a small grin. “No one’s expecting that of you, Doctor.”

He isn't? Huh.

“You’re good for each other. You and… your sweater. If it makes you happy, I don’t have a problem with that sweater, even if it’s awful. You must see something in it to love it. And while I can’t, I’m trusting in your judgment, Doctor.”

She looks at her friend and smiles. “Thank you, Jack. Now come on, I was gonna show you guys the Globe! ‘S been a while since I’ve been here but Will’s a friend of mine. I’m sure he can get us a tour again!”

Jack chuckles. “Oh, I know Will. He’s quite a flirt.”

With a sigh the Doctor grimaces. “Yeah, well. I know. He kept on reciting poetry to Martha. And there were witches trying to end the world…”

Slowly, they start walking again. And if people throw her weird looks, then it’s only to admire her sweater. Because her sweater is amazing.

And she's never going to stop wearing it.

** The End **

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah.
> 
> A word about the title: it's taken from Sarah Ruhl's 'The Clean House'. The original quote is 'I loved her to the point of invention.' I just really think it fits with the 'I made this for you' theme of this story. It's a very beautiful concept, you know?  
> (I want someone to invent something for me. And I want to invent something for the ones I love.)
> 
> I don't know how the Jack/Master scene happened. But suddenly Jack was yelling at a panicked Master who only just then realized he'd been a f*cking idiot and a jerk and that he should apologize.
> 
> The name on the back of the Master's sweater, because I feel like people might ask this: I'll leave it open to interpretation which name it is. Whether it's 'Master' (as unlikely as that is, but hey, it could be!) or 'Koschei' or his actual name, the one we've never heard and will probably never hear.
> 
> I am trying to write something for the 25th. It's going slow... And since it's such a busy few days from now on, I don't know whether I'll finish it on time. I will finish it, though, even if I'm late. I want to end the TARDIS Advent Calendar on a sweet nostalgic note.  
> (That being said, the prompt is 'Awkward Christmas dinner with all my past selves' but I'm not as well-versed in Classic Who just yet so it's probably only going to be the New Who Doctors. Plus maybe Jack, because he's lonely for Christmas. Plus the Master, because he's lonely, too. No companions, I think, because that would get too crowded.)  
> So, yeah. That's that.
> 
> Stay safe, wear your masks, invent things for the people you love!


End file.
